


the road not taken

by Moonllotus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dean Winchester-centric, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Friendship, Growing Up, Human Castiel, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 18:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14118276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonllotus/pseuds/Moonllotus
Summary: "So," Dean drawled, "is it true that you have no memory of your life before Sonny's? You're sort of a mystery around here, buddy."This finally caused Castiel's to look at him. The heaviness of his gaze caused goosebumps to spread across Dean's body. He suddenly became very aware of how close they were sitting. The warmth of Castiel's body radiating off of him in waves. Dean gulped. How had he not noticed just howblueCastiel's eyes were?"Am I?"





	the road not taken

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was going to be a rewrite of the series. But I ran out of inspiration, so now it's a oneshot. Enjoy.

The Road not Taken. By: Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 

* * *

 

Dean was _fourteen_ , what the fuck was he doing?  
   
Sammy was starving, _Dean_ was fucking starving. The money their father had left them ran out four days ago. He wasn't even sure if their dad was alive anymore. And fuck was Dean scared. Stolen crackers and chips weren't enough to survive. Plus their motel rooms' stay was about to be up, that would leave them on the street. Or worse: child services.  
   
For a brief moment he felt hot white anger at his father, only subdued by the fact that if he didn't do something soon...he was only fourteen. It wasn't _fair_.  
   
When the man had approached him at the truck stop Dean felt cold fear wash over him. A different type of fear from when he hunted. This man was a fucking pedophile, but Dean desperately needed the money. They discussed prices and negotiated what would be okay. The man seemed kind, and Dean did his best not to vomit or cry. His hands trembled as the man grabbed them and led him to his car.  
   
He hoped that the memory of what happened between them would eventually fade and maybe one day disappear.  
   
Sam was asleep by the time he got back, a bag of groceries from the nearby mini mart in his arms. In the morning he would pay to extend their stay.  
   
Dean counted his blessings that Sam wasn't up to ask questions before he shuffled into the bathroom and silently got into the shower. He allowed himself to sob quietly while he scrubbed his skin until it was pink and raw.  
   
He would never be clean again.  


* * *

   
Dean's running as fast as his legs could take him.  
   
He just tried to pick up the **wrong** type of guy. He barely managed to escape. The man was going to beat the shit out of him, and Dean was pretty sure he was in for a worse beating than was promised when the man realized that Dean stole his wallet.  
   
At nearly fifteen he was fast, and thin enough to slip into areas that a man twice his size would not think to.  
   
This was only his fourth time trying to pick someone up for money. His ribs ached and his lungs burned, but he now had three hundred bucks cash in his pocket.  
   
There was a police station on the way back to the motel where he turned in the wallet, he claimed to find it at a local convince store before he made it back to Sam in one piece.  
   
"Where have you been?" Sam demanded with a deep frown. At ten he was too young for worry lines, yet there they were on his face. Dean dubbed the look "bitch face".  
   
"I got us money to buy food." Dean replied while he shucked off his jacket. "I'm going to shower and then crash. You should sleep too. Before dad comes back."  
 

* * *

  
He's fifteen and they're staying in a city.  
   
It's the first time that they're not in some backwater town and Dean was grateful.  
   
According to John this next job could take several weeks. Which meant that the boys would be able to finish off the school year. Sammy was ecstatic at the thought of being somewhere stable for once.  
   
John was long gone and Sam was fast asleep when Dean decided it was time to go out and turn tricks. He learned early on that it was best to do this as soon as possible. He'd rather have some money saved up than wait. Because the money was always bound to run out and he hated feeling desperate.  
   
The man who paid him was in his forties and nervous beyond all get out. Obviously he had never paid for sex before, and Dean was okay with that. Virgins to this were better than men who thought it was okay to treat him like shit. He wasn't above mugging assholes, but nice guys got what they paid for.  
   
"Don't worry, I'll treat you right." Dean winked and forced a sultry smile.  
   
The city was alright.  
   
The receptionist at Sam's elementary school was nice and let Dean hang out in the front office doing homework or helping her out with filing. She gave him food most of the time. Little treats in the form of chips, juices, cookies and candies. Sometimes she'd give him whatever was served for lunch that day while Dean waited the hour for Sam to get out of school.  
   
She was young and pretty. Dark curls and equally dark eyes with mocha brown skin.  
   
Ms. Roberts was Dean's first crush, and he was okay with it. Sure, he was a natural flirt, but had never really felt that way toward anyone before. She was sweet and funny, always with a kind word. She made him laugh. The best part about her was that she would bring Dean a mini pie every Friday.  
   
The city had just one down side.  
   
It was a little awkward when Dean realized his science teacher had been one of his customers when the Winchesters had rolled into town.  
   
The man looked different in the light of day, and at first he didn't recognize him. But Mr. Kinsley's eyes became nearly as wide as saucers when he noticed that Dean was his newest student.  
   
That didn't stop them from fucking. Dean was trying to save up money so that he wouldn't have to sell himself for a while. He hated doing it. He felt dirty all the time and what made it worse was that he was going through this stage where people were starting to call him pretty. The kids at school were assholes about it. But the men who paid for sex were even worse.  
   
"Should you be teaching kids?" Dean asked while taking a long drag from the joint Mr. Kinsley - Pete- had provided with the payment.  
   
They were both dressed again, Pete offered him some pizza and weed. It was odd, but Dean shrugged and allowed it. Because he was hungry and Pete wasn't that bad of a guy. Fucking prostitutes who were minors’ aside. Although Dean didn't like to see himself like that. If he could get a stable part time job he would, but that was impossible with how he lived.  
   
Pete sighed, "I actually do love teaching."  
   
"And fucking your students?" Dean refused to take more than one drag. He needed to get back to the motel soon, his dad would be checking in within the next hour.  
   
Pete shook his head. He was twenty-seven and good looking. Many of his female classmates often made eyes at the man. "You weren't my student the first time."  
   
"I was still under age." Dean pointed out while finishing his last slice of pizza and hopping off the barstool.  
   
Pete sighed, "I know."  
   
"It's been fun," Dean shrugged on his jacket, "see you at school Monday."  
 

* * *

He had nightmares sometimes.

  
Nightmares about hunting monsters were normal. But he hardly dreamt about hunts. Instead he dreamt about being forced into sex, about men outing him to his father. To Sam. About _Sam_ having to do what Dean did to ensure they're fed when the money runs out.  
   
Oftentimes Dean would wake up with tears in his eyes and Sammy's skinny arms holding him in a makeshift hug while his little brothers face borrowed into Dean’s chest.  
   
When this happened he allowed himself to pet Sam's hair, kiss his crown, and take calming breaths. He'd lie there staring at the nearby wall for a few hours before sleep claimed him again.  
   
If John was there when this happened, Dean ignored him and prayed that John wouldn't bother to find out what he dreamt about. His dad never asked.

* * *

  
He's sixteen when he gets caught shoplifting bread and peanut butter. John decides the boy’s home would be a good way for him to learn his lesson.  
   
Dean felt betrayed.  
   
He was careful to hide the bruises that John had left on his wrists and forearms. His father had been in a drunken rage before leaving on a hunt. Sam had pissed him off and Dean jumped in the way. The hunt was supposed to be an overnight thing. John was gone for three days. He left only enough money for the first night.  
   
Which was the reason Dean had attempted to steal the damn food. He and Sammy were fucking hungry. Why else did people steal fucking food? He couldn't find any way to make money. He was so tired of selling himself. He had been sloppy and had gotten caught.  
   
He's supposed to share a room with four other boys, but there's only one other in the room so far. A quiet kid with eerily blue eyes and windswept dark hair  
   
Dean was too restless to sleep the first night. The boy, Castiel (and what kind of name was that?), stayed up all night reading. Pouring over a large tome of a book. The sound of soft breathing and pages being turned were a familiar lullaby. Dean fell asleep without realizing it.

* * *

  
Castiel was... _strange_.  
   
He couldn't quite place what was wrong with the guy. Only that, out of all of the other boys who were at Sonny's, Castiel stood out.  
   
Castiel had been living with Sonny for nearly two years, he claimed to have no memory of his life prior to the boys home. Sonny was currently his foster father, and he helped out around the place with the other boys. Dean liked the guy, he was probably only a year or so older, lanky and awkward. But his heart was always in the right place.  
   
And if he were being honest, Dean liked it at Sonny's. Everything was just so normal. Well...except for the huge ass tree at the edge of the property.  
   
The wisteria tree was larger than it should be. It was beautiful and quiet, almost feeling like something too peaceful. Dean was wary of it, although he noticed Castiel preferred to sit under its drooping branches whenever the boys had free time.  
   
He was finishing cleaning the kitchen, staring out of the window at the tree. It's purple flowers seemed to be in a perpetual bloom and Dean had never seen any of the petals fall.  
   
"That's a sacred tree," Sonny's voice caught his attention.  
   
"Sacred?" Dean tried to sound respectful. He didn't care about things that were supposedly holy. He didn't really believe in anything like that.  
   
Sacred oftentimes meant supernatural.  
   
Castiel was under the tree again, watching the evening sky.  
   
"Why don't you go and talk to him? Keep him company." Sonny encouraged.  
   
"He's kind of a mute." Dean pointed out.  
   
Sonny gave him an indulgent smile, "you'd be surprised."  
   
The evening was warm and the smell of summer heavy in the air while the cicadas played their orchestra.  
   
There were a small group of boys close to the barn house, kicking a ball around. Their shouts and laughter only added to the evening’s ambience.  
   
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he approached Castiel. There were butterflies in his stomach, something about the older teenager made him nervous.  
   
"Hello Dean," Castiel greeted while watching the breeze move the wisteria branches. The scent of the flowers lingered around him.  
   
"Hey Castiel," Dean ducked under the lower branches to take a seat on the ground beside the other.  
   
He could see boys from inside Sonny's house peering at them curiously from various windows. He noticed the boys playing by the barn pausing their game to watch the duo under the tree. Dean guessed it was because he was fairly new and was still a commodity. Castiel was the weirdo nobody talked to. Not that Castiel seemed to notice, he was too busy in his own head most of the time.  
   
"No book?" Dean inquired. From his spot next to Castiel he could see the stars clearly as the sun began to fade. It was tranquil. For the first time since he arrived at Sonny's, Dean felt his body truly relax.  
   
"Not tonight," Castiel's gaze was still up at the sky, "I was waiting for you."  
   
This statement should have caused warning bells to go off in Dean's head. He had been hunting long enough to understand that something wasn't quite right here. Yet he couldn't bring himself to feel any danger. Castiel was coming off as completely harmless.  
   
"Are you a psychic?" He asked while leaning back against the trees trunk with his arms tucked behind his head.  
   
"Maybe?" Castiel shrugged and squinted at nothing.  
   
"So," Dean drawled, "is it true that you have no memory of your life before Sonny's? You're sort of a mystery around here, buddy."  
   
This finally caused Castiel's gaze to drop from above and peer at him. The heaviness of his blue eyes caused goosebumps to spread across Dean's body. He suddenly became very aware of how close they were sitting. The warmth of Castiel's body radiating off of him in waves.  
   
The insects continued to chirp, and the other children were still as loud as ever, but the silence between the two boys was heavy. It felt as if the air between them was charged. Dean gulped. How had he not noticed just how **blue** Castiel's eyes were?  
   
"Am I?" Castiel voice dipped as he tilted his head and furrowed his brows.  
   
Dean could only nod, unaware of how much closer they were leaning towards each other. Sonny's voice calling them inside for curfew was the only thing that snapped him out of his trance. He jumped up immediately and nearly sprinted back to the house.  
   
_Holy shit_. What was that?

* * *

  
It took a few days of avoidance for him to clear his head.  
   
It was difficult since Castiel and he shared a room, but Castiel never pushed Dean to speak to him.  
   
It had been a few weeks since Dean was brought to Sonny's Boys Home. Every Sunday the boys were allowed visitors or to use the phone to call family. Most boys had visitors, Dean tried not to let it bother him that his dad never showed up. Not that it was surprising, this was the way John was. It didn't mean that it hurt any less.  
   
Dean called Bobby's, he did what his dad did to prove it was him. Called and hung up twice before allowing the phone to ring fully the third time.  
   
"Dad?" Sam's voice was even younger over the phone.  
   
The sound of him caused Dean's throat to close up for a moment before he found his own voice. "Does Bobby know you're answering his phone?"  
   
"Dean! Oh my God!" Sam seemed as if he were on the verge of tears, "I thought you were dead!"  
   
Dean's face was beginning to hurt with the force of his smile, "Nah Sammy, I'm still alive. How's your summer going?"  
   
"I've been with Bobby, he's teaching me a lot of different lore. It's pretty interesting. But Dean, I honestly thought you died and that dad was giving me some bullshit excuse that you were somewhere safe. He said he was hunting a werewolf but I was worried that he was going to get a necromancer or something to bring you back. But you're not dead! Where the hell are you?" Sam's voice had gotten higher as he continued to speak, until at last it broke with his question.  
   
"I'm safe. I'm sorry I couldn't reach you sooner, I didn't know you were with Bobby." Dean apologized, "But I'm glad you're there, I think I have a case."  
   
"By yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.  
   
"I'm sixteen, not a little kid. It's not for sure, but will you help me?" Dean knew that he should really be talking to Bobby about this so that he could reach John. But, well, he still felt a little burned by his father.  
   
"Of course I'll help you," Sam's agreement was instant.  
   
"Thanks Sammy. Can you look up any information on a creature that calls itself Castiel?" Dean asked it lowly, looking around to make sure no one was within hearing distance.  
   
"C-A-S-T-I-E-L?" Sam spelled out.  
   
"Sounds right."  
   
"I will." He could practically hear Sam nodding enthusiastically.  
   
"You're awesome. I'll call you same time next week about that. Tell me more about what you're learning at Bobby's." Dean leaned casually against the nearest wall.  
   
Sam was twelve and the smartest kid he had ever known. He felt pride surge through him as he listened to everything his kid brother was learning. His heart ached with how much he missed him. After the allowed fifteen minutes of phone time was up, Dean reluctantly said his goodbyes and promised to call within a week.  
   
By the time dinner was up and curfew rolled around, he was ready for bed.  
   
Castiel was reading again on his bed, ignoring the others around him.  
   
Dean watched him until the older boy finally looked up and held eye contact.  
   
Once again goosebumps spread and shivers went down his spine.  
   
Sonny turned the lights off and each boy began to drift off. It was nearly 3 AM when Dean felt the hand on his shoulder. He automatically reached for the nonexistent knife under his pillow. His vision adjusted immediately in the darkness and he sat up when he noticed Castiel by his bed.  
   
Castiel pointed towards the door and Dean nodded, following him out of the room on bare feet. They quietly made their way outside to the back porch and even further still towards the wisteria tree.  
   
Dean knew that following the other boy outside without a weapon was a rookie mistake. Yet he still couldn't help but feel that Castiel was harmless.  
   
"You told someone to look me up," Castiel stated casually, "are you a hunter?"  
   
Dean frowned, "what are you?"  
   
He didn't want to admit that he felt bewitched when around the other boy. Too calm, relaxed, and trusting around a virtual stranger. Sure he liked Castiel just fine, but he didn't know him. And he really shouldn't trust him. Yet he did.  
   
"I'm human," Castiel answered.  
   
"Bullshit." Because Dean was sure he had been alone near the phone. No one had been within hearing distance. Supersonic hearing was **not** human.  
  
The other boy sighed, "It's the truth. I'm as human as you are, but-" here he paused. He pressed a hand against the trees trunk before continuing, "I was an angel once. I chose to fall."  
   
Of all the creatures Dean had been expecting, an Angel was not one of them.  
   
"Angel's aren't real dude. Stop fucking with me." Dean sneered. He really wished he had a knife on him.  
   
Castiel sighed, "Your problem is that you have no faith."  
   
"If angels are real then why's the world so fucked?" Dean demanded. He hadn't realized that Castiel was up in his personal space until the other boy suddenly was.  
   
"Listen well Dean Winchester. Angels are not here for man, they do not serve humans. They're warriors of heaven in an endless battle against hell. Do not blame angels or God for the problems of humans." Castiel was barely three inches away now, voice pitched low and dangerous. He was intimidating, yet Dean still felt perfectly safe.  
   
"Demons?" Dean echoed, "Demons are real too?  
   
"Yes."  
   
It was too much. It was overwhelming. There were more things out there from the occasional ghost or vampire. There were angels and demons, heaven and hell. God was real.  
   
"Deep breaths," Castiel commanded while placing a hand on Dean's left shoulder. "Breathe."  
   
"You kind of shook my foundation, buddy." Dean found himself saying. When did they sit down on the ground?  
   
He stared out at Sonny's house through the wisteria trees branches. The old farm house had the back porches light on, all the windows were dark and to the left of where they sat he could make out the barn and fields. Above them the stars were bright and the moon was heavy.  
   
The summer air was muggy but Dean was shivering.  
   
"I apologize for the shock." Castiel murmured, his hand now on Dean's left knee. He gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I lied about the amnesia."  
   
"Am I gonna go to hell?" Dean suddenly asked, thinking back to when he was fourteen and started sleeping with men for money.  
   
"Do you think that because you're a hunter and have murdered others?" Here came the head tilt again.  
   
"Ah, _shit_. Yeah there's that too."  
   
Castiel let out a huff of amusement, "no, Dean. You're not going to hell."  
   
And maybe Dean was crazy. Because he believed Castiel. He accepted every word that was coming out of the other teenagers’ mouth.  
   
He had no reason to. Only his gut instinct. But, just in case, he was still going to have Sam do his research.  
   
They sat in silence for their remainder of time outside. It was too much to take in. Of course Dean had questions, many of them. He just couldn't bring himself to ask anything.  
   
Eventually they made their way back inside and to bed.  
 

* * *

  
They hadn't gotten the chance to speak since Sunday. It was Thursday and Dean wanted more answers. He had to wait until Sunday to call Sam and needed to find out more before then.  
   
"I can finish up the dishes," Sonny offered kindly once he realized Dean was too busy staring out the kitchen window at Castiel  
   
This caused Dean to flinch, "sorry. It's okay, I'm almost done."  
   
Sonny gave him an amused look, "I offered Dean. Go ahead. It's nice to see Castiel actually making friends with someone his own age."  
   
"Despite that friend being a criminal?" The teenager couldn't help but ask sarcastically while drying his hands on nearest towel.  
   
Sonny shook his head, "stealing is wrong. But allowing your child to starve to the point where they need to is worse. Go outside, Dean."  
   
And although he wanted to say something to defend his father, he wisely held his tongue and went outside.  
   
This time there weren't other children outside running around, only the humming of bugs and songs of nearby birds.  
   
"Hello Dean," Castiel greeted amicably.  
   
"Were you waiting for me?" Dean asked curiously.  
   
"You have questions for me," Castiel said as he leaned against the tree trunk.  
   
“Yeah,” Dean nodded while plopping down onto the ground. “I just want to get some facts straight.” And then compare notes with Sammy once Sunday rolled around.  
   
“Only if you answer mine as well,” Castiel stated.  
   
Dean grinned. “So we’re playing 20 questions? Fine, I’m game. You said that you lied about your amnesia. So what’s the story there?”  
   
Castiel got a distant look in his eye as he stared down at his dirty sneakers. He worried his lower lip and sighed, as if resigning himself to telling exactly why he lied. “I suppose I’d have to start at the beginning. When I was an angel I rebelled. Instead of allowing them to reprogram me, I tore my grace out and fell. I was born as a human and my grace-“he paused and looked up at the wisteria branches. “Most of the time when an angel is born as a human they have no memory of being a celestial being.  I remembered everything. A few years ago I noticed some angels stalking me, so to ensure the safety of my mother, I decided to search for my grace.”  
   
“So, your mom-“  
   
“Why are you at Sonny’s?” Castiel cut Dean off, “it’s your turn.”  
   
“I got caught shoplifting bread and peanut butter.” Dean scowled. He knew if Castiel were one of the other boys he’d be laughing at him over it. Instead, Castiel only gave an understanding nod.  
   
“Hunger is a serious thing. I was caught digging through trash for food, and that’s how I ended up here. Before that I was on the streets, living under overpasses and shelters. I relied heavily on other people’s kindness, but the learned the hard way that the world is fairly cruel.”  
   
Heaviness hung between them and Dean found that he couldn’t bring himself to ask any more questions.  
 

* * *

"Castiel roughly translates to "my cover is God" or "shield of God". He's the angel of Thursday. In the texts it says that Castiel is a seraph and that he has fondness for humanity." Sam's excitement was palatable. "Dude, an _angel_!"

Dean rubbed his face and sighed as he stared at the garish wallpaper that ran the entire long hallway. "Yeah, he told me he was one."

He could hear people talking from the parlor. Parents and children, there was another boy sitting on the nearby staircase, waiting for his turn on the phone patiently.  
   
"Please tell me you're not gonna hunt him." Sam begged.

Dean could practically feel the puppy dog eyes through the phone.

It was early Sunday afternoon. And Dean wished that he could have an in-depth conversation with his brother about this. But there were too many ears around to do it.

"No, Sammy. I actually like the guy." He wasn't afraid to admit that.

They chatted a little more about Sam's summer before their time was up.

"I miss you," Sam murmured before they said their goodbyes for the week. "When are you coming back?"

He could feel a lump form in his throat. His gaze darted to the boy who had been waiting for his turn before he swirled to face the wall. "Whenever dad comes and gets me."

He didn't want to say how much he missed Sam too. They hadn't been apart since Sam was born. Suddenly there were too many families around and Dean felt as if he were suffocating. These kids didn’t realize how good they had it, he was sure that he was one of the few who never received visitors. 

Before he realized it, Dean was dodging through the kitchen and towards the backdoor to the wisteria tree.  As predicted, Castiel was there. Castiel was always there. It was sort of a comfort though, the way he slouched forward reading a book, the branches of flowers swaying around him, the sun peeking through the leaves and forming a halo around him. 

After a few weeks at Sonny’s, it was a familiar sight.  
   
"Did it hurt?" Dean asked bluntly while sitting down across from the other boy. They’re knees were practically touching from the lack of personal space he was allowing. 

Castiel slowly closed his book before placing it on the ground gently. His blue eyes peered up at Dean, giving him his undivided attention. "Falling was the most painful experience of my existence."

It should have been unnerving. How patient the guy always seemed. Castiel never pushed, never demanded, just waited. And Dean, for some unknown reason, felt drawn to him. Like a moth to a flame. 

"Do you regret it?"

"No."

* * *

 

Summer dragged on with phone calls to Sam on Sundays and hanging out with Cas during his free time. The two of them sort of ostracized themselves from the other boys in the house. Sonny gave the them plenty of space, typically leaving them to their own devices. Which was mostly just sitting under the wisteria and talking, or reading. Once in a while they played a game of chess outside. 

It was the beginning of July and the nearby town was having an Independence Day carnival. Sonny had stated that the boys could go if they wanted to, provided that they stay behaved, promise not to run away, and even stated that he would be giving each of them $5 to spend. 

“Do you want to go?” Dean asked Cas almost immediately. He didn’t really care much about the other boys. Sure, they got along fairly well. And he helped a lot of them out with whatever they needed, but that was as far as it went.

Cas was in a league all of his own.

“Of course,” Cas gave his version of a smile, which was his mouth just barely inching upwards. 

Sonny drove a small school bus into town on the day of the carnival, stating that they were staying until the fireworks display was done. 

The air was hot and damp. Dean silently cursed himself for his aversion towards shorts. Castiel looked as cool as a cucumber in comparison. 

It was exciting in the fact that it was so normal. There were plenty of other teenagers around, some of the girls gave them both appreciative looks before giggling and flouncing away. 

Dean had never been to a carnival before and had dragged Cas to nearly all of the booths and some of the rides, although both boys were trying to preserve their money.

He kept sneaking glances at Castiel whenever they looked at something that interested one of them. He could feel his ears heat up whenever he caught Castiel gazing back.

Their hands kept brushing with their steps. Pinkies barely tangling together before breaking apart.

Mostly though, they bought funnel cake and people watched. 

It was nice.

Maybe too nice. Dean should have known better than to get comfortable.

It wasn't noticeable at first. He had been preoccupied with food. Castiel suddenly froze from his spot besides Dean at the random picnic table they had been lounging against. His eyes darted towards the passing crowd, following something with laser focus.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked. His friends behavior was having him on alert. Hunter instincts kicking in, waiting for danger to pop out from nearby.

"We have to leave." Cas was suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled Dean behind him. 

Being dragged through a crowd while the sun was setting was disorienting. The lanterns, booths, tents, and people all blurred together until suddenly they were in front of Sonny.

"You boys enjoying yourselves?" Sonny asked with a jovial smile. "Need more money?"

"We need the keys to the bus," Castiel stated gravelly. "I have to leave."

Sonny kept up the appearance of his smile, but the minute tensing of his shoulders told Dean that the older man knew exactly what Castiel was taking about. "No problem, just as long as Dean brings it back." He rifled through his pockets, retrieving the keys along with his wallet. He forced several bills into Castiel's hand. "Take care of yourself."

Dean wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he followed Cas. He'd probably follow the other boy anywhere. 

It wasn't until they were in the safety of the bus that Castiel turned to him. "My apologies. I hadn't bothered to ask if you even know how to drive."

"Of course I do. Scoot over, I'll get us back to the house."

The dirt roads leaving town were pitch black. There was no artificial light, only the waning moon. 

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Dean inquired while deftly avoiding hitting a racoon that decided to try and cross in front of him. 

"There were angels in the crowd. They may or may not be looking for me. For your- for everyone's - safety, it's better if I hide my grace and leave." Castiel worried his lower lip. "I figured this day would come. I've been too close to my grace for too long."

Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter. "So are you gonna mojo yourself back up then? Wouldn't that make you even more noticeable?"

Cas pressed his lips together into a tight line.

They made it back to the house quicker than expected. Castiel ran upstairs to their shared room to grab a bag and supplies.

Dean watched from the doorway of the kitchen as Castiel ransacked non-perishables and snacks. "Cas, whatever you're planning, I can protect you. I can tell my dad, my brother. We can -"

"Dean."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Follow me."

Dean only paused to grab a steak knife on the way out of the house. Out the back door and towards the wisteria tree. It suddenly seemed larger than life and loomed over them. It's shadows darker and intimidating.

"You asked me if I were going to "mojo" up. The answer is no." Castiel touched the center of the tree gently. He let out a deep breath before his hand seemed to slide through the bark.

"What the hell? Is this magic?" Dean moved closer, looking over his shoulder when he felt eyes on him from behind. His grip on his knife tightened.

The necklace with the small charm attached was too bright to look at directly at first. After an incantation it dimmed enough for Dean to get a decent look at it.

It was a lustrous silver, the charm was a glass tear drop with a clear blue smoke inside that seemed to shimmer and move.

"My grace," Castiel said while turning to Dean. "I want you to hold onto it."

"What? _No_. You need that to defend yourself against the other angels!"

"Dean." The tone Castiel used made him close his mouth.

Castiel's hands came around Dean's shoulders to tighten the clasp of the chain behind his neck. His touch lingered on the back of his neck for a moment before moving away.

"Come with me," Dean tried again. "Please?"

He wasn't sure why he was so attached to Castiel. They had only known each other for six weeks. But Dean was sure that Cas was his best friend.

When Castiel wouldn't respond, Dean quickly took off the necklace that Sam had given him years ago. It was his most treasured possession. It hurt to let it go, but not as much as Cas walking away.

"Take this."

They stared at each other once more. Castiel drew the necklace on over his head.

"Why did you drag me back to the house with you?" Dean asked, "if you were planning on going alone?"

"I'm selfish. I just wanted to see you until the last minute." Castiel grasped his shoulder for a moment. His palm hot through the fabric of Dean's t-shirt. "We'll see each other again."

The pendant that was resting on Dean's sternum pulsed. Heat creeping from his chest to his limbs. In the blink of an eye, Dean was back in the driver's seat of the bus.

* * *

 

End


End file.
